


Ambrosia

by PheobeElphick



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Children, Domestic Fluff, Draco deserves more, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Hogwarts, Light Angst, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, just a moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 00:53:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20201026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PheobeElphick/pseuds/PheobeElphick
Summary: It started all with a dresser.Draco and Harry had barely survived the War and with a lot of tears, sweat and blood building up their new life. Finally they could welcome a new member in their Family. And we look for a few seconds over Harrys shoulder.A story about birds and bees.





	Ambrosia

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language so sorry for the spelling.

Harry stood in front oft the old dresser which he bought at a household clearance in the Cruikshank Street nearby the Grimmauld Place.

He had spent hours and hours after the work in the Ministry of Magic in Arthur’s shed, grinding down the old polish and paint it all new and resealing it with a new warm and brown finish. He looked proud at it and he began to smile. A lot of contentment, too. This is what he must admit. _Silently._ _To his own._

When his fingers careful touched the reflecting top of the dresser, he could literally feel his sore muscles beside it was now over a year ago that he had spent nearly the whole evening in the summer with the work on this piece of furniture though he was in the Burrow and the whole Weasleys trying to convince him to join the supper with them in the garden.  
  
It was warm, yes, but not muggy.  
The dining table and the chairs stood outside.  
George hovered the cosy army chairs from the living room outside to the Apple Trees and all Weasley and even Teddy were sitting outside, eating, chatting reading out loud Ginnys letters from her daily work as a professional Quidditch player from the Holyhead Harpies.  
Only Harry stayed in the shed and sometimes a chicken joined him in his solitude.

Also Charlie spent a few days in the Burrow by his parents — finally after two years. He knew exactly how_ far_ he could push his Mom and when he should rather say Yes instead of No — so the same as Harry.  
  
Molly did not like to see that he didn’t want to eat, rather working on this — _old shabby firewood_ — so the dresser get called from Molly. And Harry knew that she did not like seeing it, that he didn’t want to eat her Sunday Roast, neither sandwiches nor cookies. But he _had_ to finished it. He knew that this piece of furniture had to be in this special room and it had to be perfect. It was already perfect.  
  
He knew that this dresser from the Biedermeier era would fit perfectly to the Lily Tapestry. But it had to be for him perfect. _More than perfect_.

As he saw it the first time in the attic in this house from this old lady who died in the summer with 97.  
The house smelled like cat food and dirty litter. He had almost given up as he stood in the attic with these _scary_ dolls, one without eyes and the other had only one shoe and than this broken mirror...

  
But then he saw under a lot of crocheted tablecloths and artificial flowers this dresser in Biedermeyer style, Maple root veneer on solid pinewood, and he knew immediately:  
_This is it._ This is what he was searching for.  
  
And so this little tiny dresser which nearly caused him a lumbago after he lifted it the first time with Arthur, trying to bring it to the Burrow for a little tiny DIY It caused a lot of back pain and one missing finger cup.  
With every millimeter of lack this project shaped into a DI_Why_. But Harry knew deep down in his heart why he did it. And the treacle tart from Molly made all well.

It was a sweet summer kiss. A sweet summer memory, playing in Harrys mind like a vinyl. He could hear the bees humming, conduct the beat of his heart. Sweet, sweet moments like honey who sticked together his work, pain and effort to effortless work which he would always do again.  
An Expecto Patronum worthy moment in lace and sepia.  
  
Harry smiled again as his fingers run over the honey yellow, bronze color from the wood. He stopped at the card in front of the table lamp.  
The ecru paper shimmered in the sincere light of the bulb.  
The champagne lace in front of the card was laser cut and hold together with a blue ribbon. The recipient could see through and caught a glimpse from the picture and the swinging lettering through it. _Decadence all the way._ Not Harrys taste but representing the father very well.  
  
Harry took the card with the heavy paper and opened the ribbon carefully.  
He smiled like a moon calf. His baby boy was sweeter in this knitted jumper than butterbeer.  
  
Into this shimmering paper, under the lace gate stood in big bold letters:  
  
**IT'S A BOY! 💙**  
Harry strokes over the blue heart at the End of the sentence, which beats even after nine months constant and calm.  
**A beautiful, healthy and happy Baby Boy! We welcome to the World our little bundle of love Easton Dylan Malfoy. Born 7 pounds 9 oz, 20 inches on February 14th at 12:40 PM. **  
** Proud Parents Draco and Harry.**

Harry turned around to the crib where is Baby Boy was sleeping . His sun for his bees in his heart.  
He watched him a few seconds quiet breathing, his legs stretched and his arms also stretched but up beyond his head, looking like a starfish. Harry smiled. _Like is Daddy._

  
He listened to the soft snoring from his son, watching him sleeping.  
He could hear the car from the neighbours on the driveway, the owl mobile above him constant circling.  
Harry looked up at the picture in the wooden frame above his bed.  
  
In this picture he had held his son in his arms and Draco stood beside them, pointing to the photographer. Easton started to smiley and Harry waved to the viewer of the picture. Harry looked back to his son and smiled again. But the little werewolf plushier at the End of the Bed captured his whole attentention, and he got lost in his thoughts, not until Harry heard footsteps on the carpet he realized finally where he was.  
_He heard again the screaming. And he tasted blood. He smelled burned flesh and wood. He heard the screams and the loud weeping. A howling on full moon night. Fred!_ **Fred!**

  
Harry winked. He looked again at the card in his hand at the date. To realize in which year he was. But before he could turn around and put it back at the commode, he felt the heavy hand of Draco on his shoulder.  
He buried his nose into Harrys thick and dark hair and Harry had immediately the clean and fresh scent from washing powder or better to say from his husband in his nose. As of late mixed with the smell of gunpowder since Draco worked as a Potion teacher in Hogwarts and preparing his class for the N.E.W. T.  
  
Harry wondered what they did in the classroom. He knew that after Snapes Lesson he never smelled liked that. More likely a swamp with frogspawn and brimstone. Maybe Draco had with his students much more fun than they should have. But Harry could only lean into the embrace from Draco and smirk. _And this is was only correct like his essays in Divination._  
  
He felt a kiss on his scalp and closed for a few seconds his heavy eyes. It was a long and a hard day.  
  
“Drake.“

  
Harry mumbled. He felt directly the tense between them. Draco began to stroke Harrys back and started to whisper in his Ear:

“Don’t abuse my name, Potty.“  
He started to nibble at Harrys ear. A silent whimper exit his mouth.

“Drake.“

  
Harry could feel that Dracos Hand followed his spine down to his backside and letting it rest. He squeezed gentle Harrys buttock and kissed Harrys earlobe.  
Harry could hear a protest but it was more a hum from a bee than for him word he could understand. Draco was so close to him that he could feel that he had not shaved his face this morning.

  
“Do you know why I call you that?“ Harry heard again a hum in his ears.

  
“Mandrake. A powerful herb used in love potion. You bewitched me, Draco Malfoy.“

  
Draco chuckled. He puts a finger gently under Harry chin and lifted it up. Draco pressed his lips firm and steady at Harrys.  
“Guilty as charged. Will you send me now to Azkaban?“

  
Harry turned around at looked into the grey eyes of Draco.  
They were dusty like the cobblestone in the Diagonally.

  
“You _have_ already your life imprisonment. You are the apple of my eye.“

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
